<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Boys of Summer by zcinmalik</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27599468">Boys of Summer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcinmalik/pseuds/zcinmalik'>zcinmalik</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst, Arguing, College, Football | Soccer, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Break Up, Sports, Summer Love, Summer Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:47:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27599468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcinmalik/pseuds/zcinmalik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I thought I knew what love was. What did I know?</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Niall Horan/Zayn Malik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Boys of Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, Frosh!” someone yells, and Niall barely ducks in time to avoid a frisbee to the head. He turns and glares, meeting Louis’ smirking face. </p>
<p>“Don’t call him that,” Liam chides, even as he jogs from Niall’s side to retrieve the frisbee from a pretty girl lying on the grass. “He’s a sophomore now.” </p>
<p>Louis ignores Liam, taking up his spot on Niall’s left side and throwing an arm around Niall’s stiff shoulders. He’s wearing khaki shorts and brown flip-flops, his college shirt bringing out the startling blue of his eyes. Niall keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets even as Louis roughly runs a hand over his hair, trying not to scowl too much in response. </p>
<p>“So <em> serious</em>,” Louis says, because if there’s one thing he can be relied on for, it’s noticing the things people don’t want him to notice. “What happened to all my hard work corrupting you, Niall? It just died over the summer?” </p>
<p>“Leave him alone, Lou,” Harry drawls from behind them. Niall turns around, ducking out from under Louis’ grip in the process. Harry’s walking alongside Liam, their backpacks slung over their shoulders with the unfamiliar discomfort of not having had to wear them for months. </p>
<p>“Um, the position of friend group RA has already been filled by Liam,” Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest as Liam and Harry catch up to where they’re standing in the shade of a tree. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Liam says indignantly. “I have whole friend groups of RAs outside of you guys.” </p>
<p>Louis snorts rudely as Harry says, “Oh, Liam.” </p>
<p>Niall rolls his eyes and hikes his bag over his shoulder before he resumes walking toward the dorm. He’s happy to be back, he wants to spend time with them, but it’s been a long first day and he needs to be alone like, two hours ago. </p>
<p>“Ni!” Harry calls. Niall tries not to sigh. </p>
<p>“I’ve got a headache, guys, I–” </p>
<p>They flank him on either side, easily keeping up with his quick strides. </p>
<p>“You haven’t even told us about your summer,” Liam says. </p>
<p>“I got regular Snapchats for all of two weeks and then radio silence,” Louis complains. “I texted the group about my boring as hell internship, Harry Instagrammed every bullshit artsy shot he could get, Liam stayed on campus. The least you can do is give us your details. <em> Ooh</em>, did you get some hot Cali ass?” </p>
<p>“Shut up,” Niall says sharply. </p>
<p>Louis’ head rears back a little in a combination of over-dramatic faux-surprise and well-goodness-if-I-didn’t-call-it vindication. Niall can feel Liam giving him a curious look. </p>
<p>Niall’s already messed everything up. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The next few days are all taken up by starting new classes and making up for lost time with his friends. They don’t ask him anymore about his summer (<em>for now</em>, he can’t help but think), and Niall isn’t sure if he’s actually happy about that or not. But of course he’s happy about that. Why wouldn’t he be? </p>
<p>Niall is busy enough with classes and hanging out with the boys, but he also has the soccer team to think about, and before too long, he’s going to have to declare a major. He’s really busy, he thinks. </p>
<p>The start of New England’s fall is a nice break from the overbearing heat of California, too, Niall decides. It’s perfectly not-humid, perfectly not-hot. And Niall is excited, because soccer practice starts up this afternoon, and Liam and Louis and Harry will all be there, and it’ll be great. </p>
<p>They all gather together at the nearest dining hall for an early lunch, and then they walk together to the soccer field, laughing and jostling. </p>
<p>The field is a really nice one. When Niall first toured the college, he had been blown away by the athletic facilities. They’re not just top notch about football, like some of the other colleges he’d looked at—admittedly, probably because they kind of suck at football, but hey, Niall will take what he can get when it comes to a quality soccer field. This was how he had first met the boys last year, during tryouts. Louis and Liam were already friends, and when Niall and Harry had both made the team, the older boys had taken them under their wing. </p>
<p>This year’s tryouts had already happened last week; Niall hadn’t been able to make it, because he had still been traveling back from California. The boys all say that the new members of the team are great, that it’s going to be an excellent year. Niall is ready to lose himself in the pleasure of the game, in the satisfaction of it. </p>
<p>When they arrive on the field, the rest of the team are milling around, stretching and talking. Niall nods at a few of them as he begins shaking out his arms and legs. </p>
<p>“Uh oh,” Louis says suddenly, his voice dangerous with mischief. </p>
<p>Niall looks up to see Louis staring at something off in the distance behind Niall. He snorts and goes back to stretching his left leg; that look on Louis’ face means he’s got his eye on a new conquest, and that’s nothing Niall wants any part of. </p>
<p>“Louis, I swear to god, if you sexually harass the best new player on the team–” Harry starts. </p>
<p>“I would never!” Louis protests. </p>
<p>Niall stands up and begins rolling his shoulders. To his left, Liam is glancing behind him.</p>
<p>“Like he’d fall for your puppy eyes, Payne,” Louis jokes. “He’s clearly a man of taste.” </p>
<p>“Taste for losers?” Liam asks sweetly, and Louis promptly jumps on him with mock outrage. </p>
<p>As they roll on the ground, Harry carefully steps around them and to Niall’s side. “You haven’t met any of the new kids, have you, Niall?” </p>
<p>“Nope,” Niall says. “Are all of them frosh?” </p>
<p>“Nah,” Harry replies. He’s still periodically glancing over Niall’s shoulder. “One’s a transfer.” </p>
<p>“Huh,” Niall grunts, distracted by thinking about breaking in his new cleats. </p>
<p>Liam and Louis finally stand up, their practice clothes already stained from the grass. Niall begins jogging in place, testing his cleats out, when he notices that all three of the boys are now pretty openly gaping behind him. </p>
<p>“God, you guys are embarrassing yourselves,” Niall laughs. He turns to look at the new guy that’s got their attention so badly. “Pick your jaws up off the ground and–” </p>
<p>Niall chokes, because he feels like he’s just been punched in the throat. </p>
<p>A few yards away, his body frozen and his face bloodless, staring directly at Niall, is Zayn. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Zayn lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, looking up and laughing at Niall’s bright red face.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I told you,” Zayn teases. His eyes sparkle, and if Niall hadn’t trained himself not to get lost in them when they get like this by now, he’d be done for.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Niall groans, flopping down next to Zayn and covering his face with his hands. The sand is warm under his back, the breeze lightly running through his hair.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “If any of my friends knew I lost at volleyball to some punk twelve year olds, I’d never hear the end of it,” Niall whines.  </em>
</p>
<p><em> Zayn gently pulls Niall’s hands away from his face. Niall’s breath catches in his chest at the sight of Zayn lying on his side, leaning over Niall, so perfect and gorgeous and right there, looking down at Niall with that expression. How does someone like Zayn look at </em> Niall <em> like </em> that<em>?  </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Zayn presses a sweet kiss to the side of Niall’s mouth. Niall’s heart immediately begins racing, as it still does even now whenever Zayn kisses him.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I promise I won’t tell,” Zayn says, his voice as soft as his eyes.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Niall surges up, catching Zayn’s lips with his own. His fingers now tangled in Zayn’s hair, Niall pulls him back down into the sand.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“All right, laps!” the captain yells. Niall can’t tear his eyes away from Zayn, but Zayn jumps at the sound. Somehow, Niall thinks that no one else has noticed anything is off, because Liam and Louis and Harry are all still jockeying and joking around, and the sound of the rest of the team loudly talking and groaning and beginning to run covers the sound of Niall’s heart, which is pounding so hard he thinks he might be dying. </p>
<p>Zayn runs away in that moment, joining the others, leaving Niall to stand there alone, and Niall wonders if Zayn thinks of it as payback. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s a mess. The practice, which Niall had been so excited for, is now torture on every level possible. Zayn is always there, either in his line of sight, throwing himself into suicides like it will kill him to do anything that could allow for a moment’s thought, or outside of Niall’s vision, but more present than ever in his thoughts. <em> What is he doing here. When did he get here. What the </em> fuck <em> is he doing here.  </em></p>
<p>Niall stumbles through everything, suddenly exhausted and inept. He can only hope that the other boys shrug it off as him being out of practice after the summer. It makes his blood boil to realize that Zayn is having none of the problems he is; if anything, Zayn has gotten himself so purposefully enthralled in practice that he’s better than he had ever been when he and Niall had done skirmishes together. </p>
<p>It’s a long, miserable afternoon, and when it’s finally over, Niall has no other option but to lengthen his shower ridiculously, ignoring the boys’ moaning about how hungry they are, until eventually he snaps at them to go get dinner without him, and they finally leave. </p>
<p>Niall carefully dries himself off and dresses in the stall. He has no desire to have this conversation even partially naked. When he ducks out, Zayn is standing there, his body still, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the ground. </p>
<p>Niall comes to a stop a few feet away from Zayn, who sharply looks up. </p>
<p>“What the hell,” Zayn says lowly. His voice is as lovely as ever, tempered though it is by fury. </p>
<p>“Um, shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” Niall says, immediately feeling the situation get out of his control. His face is flushing with warmth, his pulse still pounding at the sight of Zayn, no matter how many hours he’s had to get used to it. He feels his entire body tense. </p>
<p>“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zayn says. He’s gripping his own arms so tightly, Niall can see the skin losing circulation under his fingers. “You didn’t think to mention that this is where you go? I <em> told </em> you I was transferring to Massachusetts, Niall! I barely even knew you were somewhere on this fucking coast!” </p>
<p>Niall remembers that conversation well, and has no desire to start trying to justify his part of it. Besides, that’s not the point. </p>
<p>“That’s not the point,” Niall says. “I didn’t–” </p>
<p>“You didn’t trick me?” Zayn asks. Niall feels his heart skip a beat. “You didn’t lie to me, repeatedly? You didn’t let this happen? Because it really fucking seems that way, Niall.” </p>
<p>“Don’t flatter yourself,” Niall spits. Against his screaming instincts, he inflicts as much careless disdain into his voice as he can. “You’re the one who <em> stalked </em> me to <em> my </em> school.” </p>
<p>Zayn’s eyes flash with humiliated fury. A long, painful pause follows in the wake of Niall’s words. Zayn turns, slams a locker closed, and storms out of the room.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>